Thomas' Internal Monologue on Love
by mentalillusions
Summary: I think the title is pretty self-explanatory.


A/N: did someone order angst with a side helping of despair? I completely forgot that I wrote this months ago back when I was reading and writing Downton fanfic, so I'm just gonna leave this angsty Valentine's one shot here. I was actually inspired to write this after reading SoldierOfMyShadowyMind's story Some Day (only I would read something fluffy and then then be inspired to write something angsty *shakes head*)

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I never really worried about finding love, it never seemed that important in my younger days; but as I grow older, I worry more and more about dying alone, or at least never getting the chance to feel real, requited love. It feels as if all my time has run out and there's no chance now. It wouldn't work out anyway, I know that, yet still, I can't help but wonder what genuine love feels like. It almost feels embarrassing, every time I hear about one of the maids, or a girl in the village, getting married; I feel a sense of jealousy. They've found love at an age far younger than me and it makes me feel, just for a second, a sense of-I don't know- immaturity perhaps. In my footman days, I thought I'd get by just fine on me own, I thought I didn't need anyone apart from myself, so I pushed everyone in Downton away, turning them into my enemies. That was a mistake, but it's all in the past now and there's nothing I can do about it. Nowadays, I'm not sure what annoys me more: because by doing this it makes my schemes harder, or because now I have no friends.

Valentines Day is always the worst. It brings up all the hurt, and embarrassment, and loneliness. And all I can do is watch all of those younger and prettier than me finding love and expressing it freely. I'll never have that, but I'd at least like to have found someone. To be honest it would have been nice-maybe nice is not the right word, satisfying?-to have found someone to have properly experienced real love between two people, even if at the end I lost them to one cause or another. It seems unlikely that I ever will ever find someone now. It's too late and I'm still far too in love with Jimmy. Somehow, it would feel like I was betraying him if I went, or even thought, about another. I'm happy for him, I really am, it's good for him to go out and try to make a happy existence with someone else, I just can't help but wish that that someone was me. Maybe it's a selfish emotion to love him so much I hurt to see him happy with another? When he said he wanted to try and court Ivy, I nodded and smiled, yet inside I just wanted to go run and hide. I want him to find love and live a long and happy existence. But it's a bitter joy, because every time I see them standing together, I am reminded he can never be mine, and it crushes my heart just a little.

One of the good points about being in service for people like me is that no one will ever question your lack of romantic attachment. Although, maybe I never should have worried about people finding out, apparently it was blatantly obvious all along.

_Right, I can do this_, I tell myself. I'm a master of covering up my emotions-for the most part-but when I look at the young blond I feel my guard go down and it feels like my soul is lying bare and open for the world to see.

I make my way downstairs and set my face into a state of calm. _I can do this_, I remind myself.

It's not as bad as I thought would be. It's pleasant even and not nearly as cruel on my aching heart as I expected. I even manage to make friendly banter, and as much as it feels wrong to admit it, it helps to know that Jimmy hasn't given out any valentine's card, apart from Lady Anstruther, but she doesn't count. Well, at least not in my books.

I suppose that maybe I should take pride in knowing that I can finally know what love really is, even if I don't think that anyone's ever felt it for me. Now I know that it's more than getting buggered in a shabby room and forgetting their name the next day; it's about how my heart beats faster every time I loose myself in his eyes and the dreams I have of us growing old together.

The feeling of rejection I had nearly two years ago has moved on past the painful throb to a dull numbness, which seems to only flare up and make itself known on days like these when love is in the air but I'm not allowed to breathe it in. But you know what; I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. I'm happy that I met Jimmy because otherwise I would never had understood the true existence of love; the young blond has shown me a part of myself I never knew existed and for that I will be eternally grateful.

I turn my head to listen to the footman and try to think about the good this unmovable, crippling, love has brought to me, and promise myself I'll try to find some joy in our friendship and life. Maybe later I'll fish out that bottle of wine, hidden in my bottom draw, and mourn over the loneliness my unrequited love brings, over a good, long drink and a muffled, pitiful sob.


End file.
